Weapons of Mess Destruction
by mindmelda
Summary: Rotten eggs, silliness, gross humor, hentai humor. You've been warned!


Title: Weapons of Mess Destruction Author: Gina Lin Genre: Humor Pairing: 1+2, 3+4+5, (not that it matters) Warnings: gross humor, bad humor, language, silliness, Rating: R Archived: S_E Updates, GWFF, SDQB  
  
Summary: Rotten eggs. 5 guys. Stupidity. Sequel to "Café au Lait"  
  
"Oh, that is sooo gross, Q-man!" groaned Duo, his head in the huge commercial refrigerator.  
  
"The power went out while we were up at the cabin," said Quatre, holding his hand over his nose. "You and Heero will have to come up too, sometime."  
  
"We had a Preventer's mission," said Duo. "Heero would sooner rip out his intestines with a fork than forego a mission."  
  
"Same old Heero," said Quatre cheerfully. "Be careful, don't break them, they're all spoiled!"  
  
"Who needs this many eggs?" asked Duo, taking a few steps back and sucking in some air, then sticking his head back inside. He handed Quatre a tray of raw eggs.  
  
"I have a big staff to feed," said Quatre, gingerly setting the tray on the countertop.  
  
"I can't stand a man who brags about the size of his cock," smirked Duo. "Probably got a name, too. Lets see, Phallus of Arabia, Sandrock-hard?" he giggled.  
  
Splat!  
  
Duo reached up slowly and felt the back of his head.  
  
"Why you miserable sand-sucking bastard!" he yelled, pulling back a hand dripping with egg. Rotten egg. He gagged a bit.  
  
"I've heard eggs are good for the hair," said Quatre, between peals of laughter.  
  
"Why don't you try some then?" yelled Duo, grabbing an egg in each hand, and launching an offensive. With perfect aim, he smacked two eggs into Quatre's head.  
  
"Ahh!, Oh Allah, that is so nasty!"  
  
"Yeah, tell me about it," said Duo. "Oh, Jeezus, I got some in my mouth!" Duo spat on the floor and grimaced.  
  
"Try shutting it!" laughed Quatre.  
  
"Have a bite!" yelled Duo, aiming for Quate's face. Duo's hand to eye coordination was still excellent, for the mess landed dead center on Quatre's cheek.  
  
"Oh, you are so. fucking. dead!" stated Quatre, wiping his face with the back of his hand, spitting. He grabbed up more eggs, as spoiled eggs ran down his hair, and under the collar of his shirt. He calmly walked over and crammed two eggs down the front of Duo's pants, and then pressed until he heard the satisfying crack of shells.  
  
He then removed his shirt, folded it as though it were fresh from the laundry and folded his arms across his bare chest.  
  
"Feel good?" he asked Duo.  
  
"Oh, I love it, babe," whispered Duo fiercely. "Just like you're gonna love this!"  
  
He walked over to the fridge, and took out another tray of eggs.  
  
"BANZAI!!" he screamed with earsplitting volume, hurling the entire tray of eggs at Quatre.  
  
Quatre ducked smoothly. One dozen rotten eggs hit Wufei squarely in the face, neck and chest as he walked through the kitchen's swinging door.  
  
"Holy fuck!" said Duo, eyes popping. "I got Wuffers!" He looked anxiously around for potential cover.  
  
"Prepare to die, you misbegotten piece of dog shit!" yelled Wufei in a muffled voice, as he ran over to the sink and retched miserably, sticking his whole head under the spray.  
  
"Whoa, kinda harsh, Wuffers!" said Duo, running behind a butcher block with the remaining eggs.  
  
Trowa came in behind Wufei. "Mon Dieu, Quatre, q'est-ce que ce de la puanteur horrible? "* (* "My God, Quatre, what is that horrible stench?")  
  
"Rotten eggs," replied Quatre, now unable to smell what was assaulting Trowa's sensitive nose.  
  
Wufei was muttering something about "Maxwell's bizarre food fetishes" as he rinsed out his mouth at the sink.  
  
"Desert boy there started it," said Duo, still cringing behind the butcher block.  
  
"You started it with the crack about my dick!" growled Quatre loudly, grabbing a towel from a drawer and wiping his face.  
  
Wufei choked on a mouthful of water. Trowa pounded on his back.  
  
"I can hardly wait to hear this," said Trowa very quietly.  
  
He got Wufei a towel, earning him a grateful look.  
  
"Come out and face your fate like a man," said Wufei to the still hidden Duo.  
  
"Three against one is unjust!" protested Duo, pandering to Wufei in a disgustingly obvious manner.  
  
"Oh, no, you're on your own this time, Maxwell," said Wufei smugly. He walked over the fridge.  
  
"What'd he do now?" asked Heero walking into the kitchen. His expression remained neutral as he surveyed the stinking, egg-smeared kitchen, Quatre's bare, slimy torso, and Wufei cackling madly as he got more trays of eggs out of the refrigerator.  
  
"Can't you smell that?" asked Trowa. Heero shrugged. "Smells like once when Duo boiled all the water out of a pan of eggs and they exploded."  
  
"Hee-ro!" said Duo from behind the butcher block. "Help me!"  
  
"Why?" asked Heero.  
  
"They're trying to get me!" complained Duo.  
  
"You'll live," said Heero. "And don't come near me until you've showered. Twice."  
  
He went to snag a beer out of the opened fridge.  
  
"Hee-chan, how can you leave me like this?" wailed Duo dramatically.  
  
"Through this door," said Heero, walking out of the kitchen.  
  
Quatre laughed manically. "You're mine, you friendless whelp!"  
  
"I want a piece of him when you're done, Cat!" yelled Wufei. His hands were full of eggs.  
  
"I'm leaving," said Trowa, turning around to go. "I wonder what things are like in the sane world?"  
  
"Don't wanna play?" Quatre asked him, loading up his arms.  
  
"Sure, it's all fun and games until someone runs out of ammunition," said Trowa, deadpan.  
  
Quatre dropped a handful of eggs. "Whoops!" he said, cackling gleefully.  
  
"Trowa, aren't you gonna help me?" pleaded Duo, as Wufei circled the kitchen like a cat from one side, Quatre on the other.  
  
"Let me think," said Trowa, putting his hand on his chin. "No," he said after a beat. He turned to leave.  
  
"I've always hated your haircut!" yelled Duo as he retreated. "I hope you get a terminal hemorrhoid! Coward!"  
  
"Big talk for a guy whose about to become a shit omelet," smirked Quatre.  
  
"I hope a camel pisses in your hot tub," yelled Duo.  
  
"Ah, we've got him now," said Wufei, smugly. "Hear the desperation in his voice. That's right, beg for it, bitch!" he growled.  
  
"Would it help if I said I was sorry?" asked Duo meekly.  
  
"NO!" yelled Quatre and Wufei together. They ceremoniously dumped both trays of eggs on his head.  
  
"Oh, that REEKS!" said Duo in despair. "I'll never feel fresh again."  
  
Quatre and Wufei were giggling, trying to hold each other up on the slippery floor. After a few seconds of sliding around, they fell down on Duo, gasping and swearing.  
  
Duo began to laugh a moment later. "You bastards are heavy, get your asses offa me!" he gasped out, between gasps of laughter. Quatre slid off his legs and Wufei off of his chest.  
  
"This is worst than that time Maxwell blew up the OZ Officers Latrine," said Wufei.  
  
"Yeah, poor Deathscythe, he smelled like shit for a week." Duo choked, tears of laughter running down his face.  
  
"Has an armistice been declared?" asked Trowa sticking his head back inside the door.  
  
"The defector is back!" yelled Duo.  
  
"That's Monsieur Defector to you," said Trowa coolly, still wrinking his nose.  
  
Heero looked in. "I'm not cleaning this shit up," he muttered, tippy-toeing around puddles of eggs to fetch another beer.  
  
"Hey, a war without the perfect soldier, how'd that happen?" asked Duo, picking eggshells out of his braid.  
  
"No fun unless you can blow yourself up," said Heero, shrugging.  
  
The End 


End file.
